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Word Vomit
Practice for writing down how I feel to my psychologist. Maybe I can put my point across more easily through text. Also just trying to lessen the pain, somehow.

The word "vomit" is used for a reason. A lot of ugly text about how my lovely mind tortures me on a near-constant basis. Stuff in here is probably gonna be triggering to some people, so if you're bored enough to read the ramblings of a mentally crippled hermit, just keep that in mind.
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Heartbreak, depression and self-loathing

Permanent Linkby Thesilverdawn on Fri Oct 03, 2014 5:21 am

Most people tell me that I'm better off without her. She would have hurt me badly if I got close to her. I can find someone better, that kind of thing.

Regardless though, my heart is still broken. Since it happened, I am just living through pain on a daily basis. I realize that I keep downplaying it, especially in front of my shrink, but I think she needs to know the truth at this point.

Avoidants, apparently, are prime prey for people with borderline or sociopathic tendencies. I think it's because of the horrendous level at which our self-esteem sits. We can't stomach being in the same room as ourselves, so any attention someone gives us feels like a miracle of sorts. Either that or the other person must be sacrificing a lot to stand being with someone like me. I said it before, I think there are serial killers and truly reprehensible and horrible human beings with more self-esteem than me.

I've learned at a very young age to hate myself. What I did was never good enough for anyone around me. I'm supposed to be a prodigy or sorts, a gifted person. People started having really high expectations of me as a result (which explains why I bottomed out and I'm no longer doing anything, I'm afraid people will get expectations again). No one was ever happy about what I managed to do, no matter how good I was at it. On top of that, I was emotionally abused on a nearly daily basis. Eventually, little me thought that he was a piece of s***, since everyone hated me and was never happy with me. I remember nights crying in my pillow in that horribly small room down in the basement, just hating myself and holding my teddy bear. That also explains why I like stuffed animals so much.

When my ex told me she had feelings for me, I was ecstatic of course. Didn't matter that she was paraphilic and was unstable though, I was just happy that someone liked me, when I hate myself so much. Bipolar, paraphilia, sociopathy, instability. Didn't matter to me. It was my first relationship too, even if it was a long distance one. Still means that I never touched a female before, hah. But she used me, I was a tampon for all of her insane thoughts, homicidal ones mostly. I was the one doing stuff, she was passive, it was part of her game. She read me and knew exactly how to manipulate me. She promised me she'd take care of things that me, being an avoidant, I am terrified of doing (basically living a normal life with a job, income, bills to pay, driving, etc.) She didn't have much of a personality and basically turned into someone really similar to me. Same speech and such...all signs of manipulation. I was oblivious of course, even though my gut was telling me it was going to end badly, I was too high on love. It's nice to be in love and just forget about how much fuc***** pain you're in every single day.

Most of my time is spent daydreaming. Maybe I can turn it into writing eventually. Hone that skill, maybe become one of those cliché writers that live in seclusion. I don't know what else to say. I'm at the end of the roll...it certainly feels that way. I'm too much of a coward and an avoidant to really go through suicide though. It's awful because it feels like no one takes me seriously because of that. Maybe I should just go through with trying to write or do whatever the hell I want, because...well.

What do I have to lose? Not much at this point.

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